And Then There Was One

by Patricia Gussin

  “We had a guy looked just like you drop the bag of fake bills. No one showed to pick it up. We’re sure that this was phony and has nothing to do with the Spanskys, but we had three hundred sixty-degree photo surveillance around the designated drop off site. Later, we’ll ask you to take a look, but that’s not our highest priority.”

  Streeter tried to reassure Scott, offering his regards to Katie with a heavy heart.

  As predicted, the boat ride took six hours, but daylight was fading fast. Spanky chose a desolate area a hundred yards inland from the shoreline, protected by tall trees and heavy brush, close enough to the cove where he’d secured the boat. He figured it would take him an hour to haul in the supplies and throw up the tent. Ma and Precious would be okay here as long as they stayed put. There was a fee for camping, and he’d give Ma enough cash to cover it should park rangers intrude, warning her to act innocent, apologetic, and eager to pay. And to keep the girl out of sight.

  His earlier plan had been to steal a car and drive back down by the Mackinac Bridge. But the more he thought about it, the riskier it seemed. Now he planned to take the boat back down the western coast of Lake Michigan to the Milwaukee area. He’d abandon it there, find a car, make the drive. He still had seventy-five hours. Enough time, but none to spare. He’d wanted to leave that night, but he’d been up most of the night before. Being a trucker he knew the importance of sleep. If you don’t get enough, you make mistakes. And he needed to stay smart. He decided to stay overnight in the tent and leave first thing in morning.

  Marge threw up three times as Spanky charged across Lake Michigan at full throttle. She’d never been on a boat except for Evan’s rowboat and a boat from Detroit to Belle Island and back. That had been slow enough to walk around holding a drink, but this was a violence she could never have imagined. She had to hold on with both hands or she’d go flying out as the boat went up and down over the waves at the same time it rolled from side to side. All she could think about was Jennifer back there. Would she even be alive when they got there — wherever they were going? Jennifer’s hands were wrapped inside that blanket so she couldn’t hang on and the bumps were very violent. It was very mean of Spanky to make her suffer like that. Before they reached the shore, Marge had made a decision.

  By the time Spanky pulled the boat close to the shore, Marge was covered in her own vomit. Nauseous, with a killer headache, she crawled to the back of the boat where Spanky had stashed Jennifer. A picture flashed in her mind, Jennifer, blue eyes, dark curly hair, only eight months old. Spanky had pushed her in the water the first time. Could Jennifer have fallen out?

  Spanky finally found a broken-down dock in a protected inlet. As he threw out a rope, Marge rushed to check on Jennifer. When her hand felt her daughter’s soft curly hair, she felt a surge of joy. “Oh, thank God,” she kept repeating.

  Once on the shore, Maggie pulled the cloth out of Alex’s mouth and untied her hands.

  “Oh, thank the Lord, you weren’t drowned,” Maggie was saying. “I was so scared I’d lose you again, Jennie.”

  Even though Maggie stunk like vomit, Alex let herself be pulled into a hug.

  Okay, she thought, this makes me sick, and Sammie would never do this, but — “Maggie,” she said, her face touching the woman’s. “Is it okay if I call you ‘Mama’ or ‘Mom’ or something? Maybe ‘Mother?’” Alex thought that she, too, would throw up. Not because of smelling vomit, but because of what she had said. Calling this evil woman anything that meant mother was like the most shameful thing. But would it help her get the woman to trust her so she could escape?

  “Oh, my baby, of course. That would be the most wonderful thing. ‘Mama’ I think that would be best. My little Jennie — Yes, ‘Mama’ would be fine.”

  Alex held her breath as Maggie started to tremble. Trying to disentangle herself from the woman’s arms, she saw the tears in her eyes. Alex didn’t care. She just wanted to get out of there.

  “Get your butts in gear. Stop that blubbering, Ma. Precious, you can carry the bags of food.” The man motioned for her to hold out her hands and he filled them with two white plastic bags. “Get your asses in gear or you’re gonna be sleeping on the ground.”

  Maggie and Alex ran about doing whatever the man told them to do until he finally got the tent up. He told them how to make a fire and how to light the lantern. He said there were berries around but not to go too far. He told them not to talk to anyone. Maggie asked him how they were supposed to go to the bathroom.

  “In the woods,” he said. “Here, Precious, let me show you where.”

  Alex had been sitting on the camp bed, and Spanky came to offer her a hand.

  “No, Spanky, just tell me where. I’m the one who has to pee.”

  Spanky pointed to a clearing in back of their campsite and Maggie hurried off.

  No longer had she left than Spanky unzipped his pants and pulled out his penis. Alex had never actually seen a penis except in science books. Were they supposed to be that big? “Look at this, my Precious, this is just for you. Come Precious, touch it, before Ma gets back.” Now he was right in front of Alex. Her face came within an inch of what looked like a huge, hairy sausage. “Touch it, Precious, or do you want to put it in your mouth? You can, you know. You can lick it, too. Oh yeah, that would feel real good.”

  Alex didn’t know what to do. Should she touch it? Would he hurt her if she didn’t touch it?

  She shook her head. She knew what a penis was for. Boys had one. That’s how they peed. She couldn’t imagine why he was showing her his and why he wanted her to touch it, but she knew it must be something bad. What would Jackie or Sammie do? But they were not here and maybe she would never see them again. Alex started to cry, but Spanky took her hand and placed it on his hairy, throbbing penis just as Maggie came charging back inside the tent.

  “Stop it, Spanky. I said, stop it. I told you not to do that to your sister. It’s not natural.”

  “I surrender, Ma,” Spanky said with a grin, zipping up his pants. “Won’t be long and you’re gonna stop telling me what I can and cannot do. I’m a grown man, Ma, and I’ll be the one takin’ care of you.”

  CHAPTER 56

  FBI Questions Sammie Monroe. Where is Her Triplet Sister?

  National News, Saturday, June 20

  To Katie’s relief, Jackie’s recovery seemed genuine and complete, and Sammie’s injuries only superficial cuts and scrapes, her arm in a sling as a precaution. Once Agent Camry had completed a thorough interrogation of Sammie, Katie had called her mom to give her the okay to visit. The girls were working on chocolate ice cream sodas when Lucy arrived, and Katie felt a rush of mixed emotions when they both leapt out of their wheelchairs to hug their grandma.

  “Your hair, Sammie,” Lucy exclaimed. “At last, I’ll be able to tell you two apart.”

  “But not from Alex,” Sammie said. “Hers is short now, too.”

  Katie’s momentary pleasure at seeing her two daughters reunited with her mom evaporated as reality hit hard. She squeezed Scott’s hand knowing, too, that he would have had the same reaction. Alex was still missing.

  For Lucy, Sammie and Jackie retold the story of Alex and Sammie’s abduction. “We have to find Alex, Grandma,” they each kept repeating.

  “Katie?” Lucy intervened. Katie had zoned out, asking herself over and over, Was Alex safe? Of course, there was no answer.

  “Mom, we were thinking,” Jackie was saying. “Can we go back to Grandma’s. We don’t need to be in a hospital. I’m okay now, really, Mom.”

  “As soon as Dr. Susan comes back to check on you, we’ll ask her,” Katie said. Yes, she wanted both girls out of the hospital, but could she cope, going back to Mom’s without Alex? Somehow that felt like she was giving up.

  As they all chatted and commiserated and went about reassuring each other, Scott responded to a knock on the door. Agent Camry asked to speak with him and Katie. “Nothing about Alex,” she forewarned in a voice loud enough for all to hear.


  “Agent Streeter thought you may want to know this,” Camry said. “Roberta Kendrick, Olivia Cutty’s sister, was found dead today, an apparent heroin overdose. She left a note, said she couldn’t cope with the responsibility for Jake and Aiden. She hoped that someone would take care of them. She said that they’d be better off without her.”

  “Those poor kids,” Katie felt profound sadness, mixed with guilt. “They have no one. I tried to protect them, but now —”

  “They got a raw deal,” Scott said, “but Katie, none of this was your fault.”

  “I’m the one who insisted that it was Cutty who took Sammie and Alex. How wrong I was.”

  “But, to grow up in the custody of a man who murdered their mother and who sexually molested them? Those kids never did have a chance.”

  “Where are the boys now?” Katie asked.

  “Hillsbourgh Protective Services. Adam Kaninsky offered to take them, but I doubt that the courts will let that happen.”

  Before they went back to rejoin the family, Scott pulled Katie aside. “Babe, we have to stay focused. For us and for all three girls. We can’t worry about anybody else.”

  Katie nodded, pressing her body against his. “Scott, I love you,” she said.

  CHAPTER 57

  Search for Alex Monroe Moves to Northern Michigan.

  — Evening News, Saturday, June 20

  The crime scene investigators who’d scoured the Elk Lake cabin briefed Streeter as he prepared to board the FBI helicopter that would take him back to Detroit. Indeed, the fingerprints there matched those found in the Holly house: Alex Monroe, Margaret Spansky, and Samuel Spansky. An hour earlier Streeter took a call from the director. Based on the ransom demand with Alex’s voice verified, assignment for the Monroe rescue command was shifting to the Miami field office. Streeter would remain in charge of Michigan operations, but would take orders from Miami. The powers that be were convinced that the kidnappers would show up to collect the money in South Florida and that they’d keep Alex alive for demonstration purposes.

  He’d just climbed into the bureau aircraft when the pilot announced, “A call for you sir. We’ll hold takeoff so you have better audio.”

  “Agent Streeter,” he said, flipping to the communication channel.

  The Charlevoix, Michigan, chief of police identified himself then went on to report an incident. He apologized for bothering him in the middle of such a high profile case, but —

  “Go on,” Streeter said.

  “I’m sure that this is nothing, but with all the police chatter today about the hunt for the Monroe kid, I thought I’d let you know about a report we got late this afternoon. A concerned citizen came across an older model panel van parked along a remote stretch of lakeshore. He walks his dog on the same path when he gets home from work every night, and he thought it strange, particularly because it had no plates, so he called it in. When we responded, we found the vehicle half hidden in heavy dune grass. It couldn’t have been there long, based on the condition of the grasses. No plate, but we did find the registration info underneath the passenger floor mat. Registration address was Elk Rapids. When I tracked down the owner, he said that it must have been taken from his cottage on Elk Lake. Owner hasn’t been in the area for three weeks so he doesn’t know how long it’s been missing.”

  Streeter was not impressed with this missing van, but arranged for fingerprints to be compared to the Holly house and Elk Rapids cabin. But this information did give him an excuse, however flimsy, to keep his small team in northern Michigan. His gut told him that the Spansky couple had not ventured far with Alex. He’d postpone his trip back to Detroit until the Charlevoix police had completed the fingerprint analysis from the abandoned van. He told the pilots and instructed them to find a place in Traverse City for them and Streeter and two agents to stay the night. He’d inform the SAC in Detroit later.

  Streeter then returned to the log cabin. A few guys from the SWAT team were hanging around, bitching about poor communication. If they’d been called out an hour sooner, they would have the kid, the bad guys would be locked up. Same old bitch session that followed every failed SWAT operation. Streeter and his two agents may be able to delay going back, but no way could he persuade the elite team leader to stay. As of now the SWAT effort would be focused on Miami, and the case would be directed from there. Streeter would go back to Detroit, having failed Alex.

  At the height of the season, the FBI team of five was lucky to find three rooms at a motel on Grand Traverse Bay. They had no luggage, but they headed toward their rooms with laptops and communication equipment. They’d use Streeter’s room to set up and the four men would share the other two.

  CHAPTER 58

  Michigan’s Upper Peninsula Temperatures Running Several Degrees Colder than Average this June.

  — Michigan Weather, Sunday, June 21

  Spanky was gone when Marge woke up. He’d told her that he had things to do and that he would return to get her and Jennifer. She had enough supplies to last a week and she was not supposed to leave the campsite, no matter what. She hadn’t slept well, yet she hadn’t heard Spanky leave. Twice during the night, she’d gotten up to pile more blankets on Jennifer. She’d always liked camping when she and Evan had taken Spanky before the twins were born, but now she felt exposed and abandoned. Where had Spanky gone and why had he left her and Jennifer here?

  But the main reason she stayed awake most of the night was to figure out what to do about Spanky. Marge realized that she could not trust her own son. For years now, she’d known that he did bad things to little girls. She wasn’t sure of the word. Was it rape? Did they call it sodomy? Whatever, he collected their little panties in a chest. He even took them on the road for his runs. But with his own little sister? That was unnatural.

  Marge lay on the blow-up mattress until Jennifer began to stir. She’d been thinking about work. What were the girls saying? Had the FBI or the cops questioned them? She imagined they had. If only she could go back to that easy, friendly, supportive life. But she couldn’t. Simple as that. She’d made her move. And she’d lost one twin. But she still had Jennifer.

  “Mama, are you awake?” Jennifer said in a voice so sweet that Marge thought her heart would melt. So many years she’d waited for this. This time she wouldn’t let Spanky ruin things for her. She’d tried her best with him, but Spanky had turned out to be a pervert. There, she had said it. Pervert was the right word for him.

  Marge had to chose: Spanky or Jennifer. Jennifer was Evan’s child. Not an out-of-wedlock child like Spanky. The word bastard came to mind, a word her father had used when she first admitted she was pregnant, but a word that Marge had never said, even to herself, until last night when she was thinking things through. In contrast to Jennifer and her twin sister, Jessica, both legitimate children. And even if she didn’t have Jessica, Evan would want to take her and Jennifer back, she was sure of that. All she had to do was find him. She knew that he lived in Toronto.

  “Yes, Jennie, I’m awake. Were you warm enough last night?” Marge had skimped on her own blankets to make sure Jennifer wouldn’t be cold.

  “Yes, but why do we have to stay here? When it got a little bit light this morning you looked cold so I took a blanket over to you.” Marge looked around. Surely, she had. What a perfect child. Shy at first, but really opening up.

  “Hungry?” Marge eased herself off the mattress and stood, stretching her arms in circles until she felt a stitch of arthritic pain in her neck.

  “I guess so,” Jennifer said. “Want me to go look for some of those berries he told us about?”

  “First let’s go pee,” Marge said. “For now we have to go in the woods, but maybe we can find a toilet. Campsites are supposed to have restrooms, and Spanky said that this is a state park.”

  During the night Marge had finalized her plan. She would take Jennifer to Toronto to reunite with Evan, and they would resume their life together. No one would look for them there. Not even Spanky. In
her purse she had $430, and they had plenty of food. She would pack as much as she could carry into a large black garbage bag, and then they’d start walking. She didn’t know which way to walk, but Marge figured it didn’t matter. She’d stick to the edge of the lake. People always camped on lakes. She’d tell them that — Well, she’d think up something depending on the circumstances. Like she lost her wallet and needed to get home to Toronto. At least she wouldn’t have to worry about Jennifer kicking up a fuss. The child seemed quite content.

  As Alex trudged alongside Maggie on the shore of the lake, she reminded herself to act nice but to stay alert. They hadn’t seen another person and she didn’t know what she’d do when they did, maybe yell, “Help me!” and run from Maggie to the person. As she practiced in her mind, she heard a dog bark. She stopped a step behind Maggie and turned around as a large dog ran to her side. Alex liked dogs, but her family had never had one because Sammie hated most animals. But this one seemed friendly with floppy ears and thick yellow fur. She didn’t know what kind of dog he was, but as she put out her hand to pet him, Maggie grabbed her other hand and jerked her forward so hard that Alex felt a jolt of pain in her shoulder. Before she spun around to face forward, she looked for the dog’s owner, but she saw no one. After that Maggie made her stay right next to her. When the dog scampered off, she asked Maggie whether she liked dogs.

  “Yes, Jennie, I’ll get you one if you want one, but not today.”

  For a while Alex wondered whether she should have made more of a fuss over the dog. Maybe its owner would have come after it, and she could have been rescued. But too late now, so she followed Maggie. What else could she do? No way was she going to run away into the scary woods, but the next time, if she saw anybody, she’d run to them and beg for help. She also reminded herself to drink plenty of water. Dad was always telling the team to stay hydrated. They didn’t have bottled water so she soon drained the cans of lemonade and Sprite.